


your slightest look

by stardating



Series: in the company of flowers [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Coffee Shops, Friendship, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining Idiots, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Trope Subversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 12:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20582567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardating/pseuds/stardating
Summary: Romance novels said that love was not supposed to be about suffering, or some other poetic lie. Clearly, none of those authors ever spent their days coughing up bouquets.





	your slightest look

**Author's Note:**

> This was totally un-betaed and written over the course of one night and afternoon. As of 11/21/19, it has been edited for a slight plot hole I noticed. The plot hole should be filled now. Hope you like it!
> 
> Title is from "somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond" by e. e. cummings
> 
> _your slightest look easily will unclose me_  
_though i have closed myself as fingers,_  
_you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens_  
_(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose_

Tony hated romance.

He never understood why people liked romance novels or any of those sappy movies. They always lacked a certain … aspect of reality. Namely that people who were oblivious when someone was in love with them or they kept their feelings hidden from someone else were irresponsible idiots and the ultimate jerk.

Scientists said that ‘Hanahaki Disease’ was not meant to injure or kill. It was selective with its victims after all. No one who held platonic or familial love for someone else suffered from it, for example. One theory said that it was supposed to encourage people to be open with their feelings and be more emotionally mature. Someone else claimed that it was a curse from a divine being all of humanity had to suffer due to one single person’s selfish behavior.

Tony thought that the universe just sucked was the most plausible.

* * *

Tony hummed and drank his coffee.

The sun was shining. There was still a nip in the air. Spring was on its way. Flowers were only just beginning to bloom, but a predicted frost would kill them all off for another week. Thankfully, inside his favorite coffee shop, there was a respite (turns out faux flowers were immune to frost). Their only florals were various ivies and succulents.

That morning, he had spent half an hour coughing up miniature daisies and violets.

God, he was glad he had some time before his first meeting.

“Tony, good morning,” Steve said, sitting down next to him.

“Hey,” he said, smiling brightly. “I went ahead and ordered for you.”

Steve smiled brightly, taking a long drawl from his latte. “Thank god for caffeine.”

“How’s the gallery showing going?” Tony asked to distract himself from obsessing over who might be in love with him.

Steve started talking about how his art was finally taking off, glad that vintage styles were finally coming back into style and people were appreciating his historical references.

Listening to Steve was a much better way to spend time.

* * *

Clovers apparently were not just a symbol of Ireland or good luck.

Irises had too many meanings for anything to make sense.

Tony was thankful that all the flowers, so far, were small or came up easily. It wasn’t horrible, yet. More like a terrible case of allergies.

* * *

“You have no clue?” Pepper asked, horrified when she saw a huge mass of tiger lilies all over his office’s floor. Tony was hastily shoving them into the garbage can.

“Just—just help me,” he begged.

Pepper gave him a single nod and helped him gather up the betraying petals before anyone else came in or noticed. She even opened the windows and ordered some coffee to disguise the lingering perfume.

“I’ll have JARVIS run some … algorithms or something,” he said when it was all done.

“I can make up a list,” she offered, even though the list would likely be short.

Hanahaki Disease might be for unrequited love, but it was only for _true love_. Crushes on celebrities or so-called ‘nice guys’ thinking they deserved love because they treated someone like a human being did not count. That was another part of it that made Tony sick, because this meant someone truly loved him, but thought that he would not feel the same.

The flowers were clues, hints.

Little glimpses into the inner psyche of the person in love with them.

Or so people said.

No one really liked to talk about what happened if someone never figured it out.

* * *

Tony knew it was not Pepper.

She loved him, of course, but it was a complicated and non-romantic way. They were a thing, once upon a time, but it settled into something more like ‘dumbass king’ and ‘long-suffering advisor’, with Rhodey as the one person who could emphasize with her. Bruce was head over heels with Betty, but thank goodness their love wasn’t unrequited. Just a little star-crossed, until General Dickhead got his head out of his ass and stopped trying to get Bruce fired.

Apparently moving in with Bruce and accepting his proposal wasn’t enough of a clue to get him to realize Betty was perfectly happy with him, her father’s opinions notwithstanding.

He had JARVIS analyze text messages and photos, look through emails, and just about anything he could reach online, even stuff he was not supposed to have access to. When JARVIS, his wonderful, beautiful, snarky creation couldn’t find anything, he went manual. He scoured his contacts and made lists, thinking through every interaction he could possibly remember.

Clint, Natasha, Sam, Steve, and Bucky were all friends. Important friends he would absolutely die for, wake up in the middle of the night for, and spend hours fixing broken coffee pots for … but no. None of them were in romantically in love with him, even a little bit.

Tony wished that one of them were.

Then it would be easier to turn them down and somehow move on.

If he thought he could continue being friends with them after that.

Because, really?

With his luck, it would just make things worse.

* * *

“You okay?” Steve asked one afternoon.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, shoving some more of his sandwich into his mouth. That morning’s coughing fit left him exhausted and starving, because it made him skip breakfast.

“Well, slow down before you make yourself choke,” Steve advised.

* * *

Bruce gave him sympathy tea.

Tony pretended Bruce was trying to poison him in the ultimate betrayal.

“Are you sure you don’t know who it is yet?” Bruce asked gently.

“I’m sure,” he said, sipping the tea despite himself, if just to get rid of the taste of chrysanthemum.

* * *

One morning, he nearly had a heart attack.

He thanked every deity out there that he didn’t cough up the spines, just the flowers of a cactus. It was a little rougher than other flowers, but still, god, that was close.

He would never forgive the idiot in love with him if he had to get surgery because of this.

Of course, how was they know?

He was keeping it a secret.

If he threw it out there for the whole world to know, the tabloids might have a field day, but the person in love with him might realize this and fess up.

He still just threw the flowers away.

* * *

When Tony first met Steve, it was at an art museum.

Pepper had arranged the meeting, sale, and whole shebang, but Tony did need to actually see the paintings, shake hands with the museum officials, and sign the needed paperwork. He was just starting to talk to the curators when this tiny, skinny tornado of righteous fury came upon them.

“You can’t take those paintings!” he has yelled, the words echoing down the halls. “They’ve been in the museum for generations! You can’t just buy them and shuffle them off to some penthouse where no one else can ever see them! That’s just selfish!”

Tony gaped like a fish for a few moments.

He was shorter than him, like by half a foot, and looked like a strong wind would blow him away. His cheeks were flushed with anger and he looked ready to punch someone.

“I’m—I’m not going to shuffle them away,” Tony exclaimed, defending himself. “I’m purchasing them to fund their conservation and restoration.”

“W-What?”

Tony had a feeling his mouth got him into a lot of trouble.

He walked up to him and extended his hand. “Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Emphasis on philanthropist.”

“Uh, Steve Rogers,” he said, taking his hand. “Art student.”

Some discussion later led to getting a coffee at a nearby café.

* * *

It was not like they got along right away.

Their arguments became legendary. Somehow, no one affiliated with the news or paparazzi got wind of the semi-regular meetings, but their friends all did. There was endless teasing and sometimes even larger arguments around cups of coffee and muffins.

“You just can’t—”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Stevie!” Bucky yelled. “His family has been in the business since World War II! I think he knows a thing or two about arms races!”

Their meetings also led to Tony meeting Steve’s friends and Steve meeting his friends and somehow all of them becoming mutual friends. Tony went from five people he knew he could trust to … he kind of lost track at this point. They were all on his phone anyways, under nicknames specifically made to annoy them.

* * *

“You did not.”

Tony grinned. “The moment I found out, oh yes I did.”

Bucky and Sam were laughing their heads off. Natasha looked like a cat that got a bowl full of milk and a cage full of canaries. Steve was blushing hard again.

“Change it.”

“No way, Star Spangled Man—”

“Tony!”

“With A Plan.”

That year, Tony planned to get some (semi-illegal) fireworks for Steve’s birthday. Clint and some random dude in Texas may or may not have been involved.

He never could resist a good pun.

* * *

Tony wondered if this was punishment for something, because if someone loved him, truly loved him, to the point where he would be coughing up flowers because of that love—surely they would gather the courage to tell him so he wouldn’t suffer like this.

“Lights,” he whispered.

JARVIS slowly turned the lights on, but kept them dimmed.

On his pillows and sheets were small freesia blossoms.

So, it was someone he trusted.

* * *

“Steve?”

Steve continued to hack up a lung, something he had not done for months, not since Tony forced him to go to a new doctor and took care of the initial examination bills.

“Sorry,” Steve said, his voice hoarse. “Allergies.”

“You sure?” Tony asked.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m not made of glass, honestly, Tony. It’s the middle of spring and cedar is high this week.”

Tony gave him a level look, because some days, it was like he was made of glass. Ever since his art finally took off and he got some gallery showings and people commissioning, his paychecks were finally a bit steadier. He could afford things like asthma medication now.

He still wished that Steve would accept his help, but he was so … stubborn.

It was _not_ charity.

* * *

“You sure it’s not Steve?” Rhodey asked.

He could never keep anything from Rhodey, even if he tried.

“What makes you say that?”

Steve? Steve with his heart on his sleeve? Steve who couldn’t resist picking a fight with a bully, even though he was a grown adult? Steve who couldn’t lie to save his life? Steve who could be a little shit and never saw a point in beating around the bush?

No. Never. It wasn’t him.

“Because the guy always looks at you with hearts in his eyes,” Rhodey deadpanned.

“What? Okay, one, Steve and I are _friends_. Not like you and me, platypus, but still, friends. Two, he wouldn’t do this to me. He has seen how much this sucks for others. He would rather jump on a grenade than put even a stranger through this flowery hell.”

“I don’t think anyone ever really means to. Emotions are complicated—sometimes you can’t help but feel the way you do.”

Tony scowled. “No. If it was Steve, he would be like a bull in a china shop. He’d confess two seconds into a crush. Why would he think he wouldn’t be good enough anyways?”

“I dunno, Tones, why does anyone ever feel inadequate about something?”

“You’ve been talking to Sam again.”

“Yep.”

* * *

God, if it _were_ Steve though …

He hoped they wouldn’t fight about it. He hoped he would say some smooth line and everything would dissolve into a wonderful make out session.

Not that he hoped it was Steve in particular or anything.

No. He and Steve were friends. Just friends.

Tony was not going to let one of the best friendships of his life get totaled because he had to go and fall in love with the way his hand held a pencil or the way sunlight got caught in his hair or how he could be so stubborn and passionate and such a little—

Nope. Not at all.

* * *

“Angelica, huh?”

It was a nice flower, he supposed, with its small white clumps. One website said that it meant ‘inspiration’, but god knows what the context of that would be.

He lucked out later in the day when he only coughed up a single Acanthus leaf.

Turns out the flowers had spines.

* * *

As he continued to cough up more daisies and violets (who knew the flowers could repeat themselves?) Tony thought.

He was not one for much introspection, but figured what else was he going to do at this time? Trying to figure out math or design another schematic was too much at four in the morning when all he could smell was pollen and perfume and green things.

So, he thought and thought and made some decisions.

Screw Hanahaki and the death sentence it gave him. He had better things to do.

* * *

Natasha knew by just looking at him.

“You got this?” was all she asked.

God, he could kiss that woman for being so discreet.

“Yeah. I think I do.”

Even though he lied, she made no further comment.

* * *

“Steve, what the hell?”

Tony was running a bit late for their usual coffee meetup thanks to some late night inventing binges, but Steve was outside the coffee shop hacking up a lung.

“To—”

He couldn’t even finish his name before he had to cough again.

“No, no. This is not okay. We’re taking you to a doctor. When did this start?”

Steve shook his head. “I already sent in some samples.”

“Samples?” Tony repeated.

“Yeah. I’m,” he took in some more air, his lungs wheezing painfully. “I’ve been coughing up spores. I’m getting the results in today, but my doc can’t figure it out right now. It’s only been going on for a couple of days, breathe.”

Tony’s hands shook. Steve had a lot of aliments that lingered from childhood, but he was getting healthier. He was getting stronger. Anyone who knew Steve longer than Tony could attest to this. His asthma wasn’t knocking him out as much anymore, his scoliosis was gone, and even Bucky commented he recovered from colds easier. But it was still a fear of Tony’s that something would come around and take him away for good.

The day that happened, the world would be dimmer. It would be without an amazing, wonderful, infuriating ball of righteousness. It would be missing out on a wonderful artist, a passionate friend, an idiot who liked to sing along to musicals off-key on purpose.

Tony would lose a dear friend.

God, he’d lose—

“Nope. Come on.”

Tony grabbed him by his arm and practically dragged him to his penthouse, telling JARVIS to clear his schedule and inform Pepper the moment they passed into Stark Tower.

“Tony!”

His employees in the main lobby paid them no mind. They were used to weird antics.

“Tony!” Steve yelled, his voice amplified by the closed elevator.

“You’re coughing up spores!” Tony exclaimed. “You should be in the hospital! They should be shoving antibiotics or whatever the hell they do! You could be _dying_!”

Steve looked pale then, as if he had been in denial.

“Tony, I …”

“Until we can get some actual doctors here, can … can you just stay? Please?” Tony asked desperately.

Steve hesitated, but then nodded.

* * *

Tony stayed with him the rest of the day, informing their friends and sticking around as the doctors examined him.

He made sure the air was being filtered within an inch of its life, researched everything someone needed to do when dealing with a fungal infection, and rubbed Steve’s back when Bucky gave a very worried, scathing phone call. He got blankets and tea and had prescriptions delivered. If there was anything he could possibly do to help, by god, Tony was going to do it.

But then he saw one of Steve’s tissues as he went to empty the trashcan.

“Steve,” he whispered. “These aren’t spores.”

“What?” Steve croaked from the couch, miserable from being poked and prodded.

Tony picked one of the tissues up, pale cherry blossom petals falling down.

“Oh.”

* * *

“Dandelion seeds, or really, the fluff of them,” one doctor said. “That is all it was. I would stop all medications now, Mr. Rogers.”

That they had a more serious problem was left unsaid.

“I am going to kill this person.” Tony growled.

“Tony, don’t worry about it,” Steve said.

“No! I am going to rip their lungs out and give you a transplant and then beat them with a large stick and rake them over coals and—”

Steve slapped his hand over Tony’s mouth and made a disgusted noise when Tony licked his palm.

“What are you, five?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Someone gave you Hanahaki Disease. I don’t care what I have to do, I am going to make sure you get better.”

“Tony, no one has ever _died_ of Hanahaki,” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes fondly, as if Tony was an idiot. “I looked into it as a possibility last night. I’ll be fine, if not single-handedly keeping Kleenex afloat. Besides, if they’re not ready to tell me their feelings or if they are working through something, I gotta respect that.”

“Respect that they are making you suffer?” Tony demanded.

Steve shook his head. “No. Because they’re suffering too. They … they think that for some reason, I wouldn’t want to be with them or even give them a chance. If someone likes me that much, but don’t think I wouldn’t even listen to them … that someone like me … they’re suffering more than I ever could coughing up dandelion fluff.”

Tony sat next to him, his whole body sagging.

He might be reading too much into this, but—

“You’re _great_ Steve. No one should look at you and think you are anything but wonderful. You’re a pain in the ass, but just because you’re scrawny or are more prone to colds shouldn’t matter. I happen to like the fact that someone is shorter than me.”

Steve smiled at him, his eyes watery and the tip of his nose swollen from blowing it so much.

So many people judged him on his looks. Tony knew that no matter how hard he punched or how many times he said he ran every morning to improve his health, Steve felt that judgement keenly. He would see ads and movies and never, ever see himself, except for when someone was being used as the butt of a joke or some cardboard stereotype. It pissed Tony off that so many aspects of their society was still twisted and manipulative like that, but they had a literal medical disease that made people suffer unless they had open, honest communication with loved ones.

Sure, some people got their happy endings, but in general, this whole ‘hack up flowers because someone thinks so poorly of themselves you have to suffer with them’ was messed up.

Tony was going to say something more, but then Steve started to hack up red carnations.

* * *

Tony felt … ‘hypocritical’ was probably the wrong word.

Especially when he had to excuse himself to cough up some gladioli while Steve got the last bits of a fern leaf out of his mouth.

Whoever was in love with Steve didn’t deserve him.

Nah. He needed to be honest.

Hypocritical was entirely the right word.

* * *

“Tony?”

Tony looked up from his tablet. Steve had fallen asleep on his shoulder during a movie. His coughing had abated for a while, thankfully, but Tony was still worried and only left his side to take care of his own flower related problems. Steve would never admit it, but coughing up flowers and leaves took a lot more out of him than it would the average person.

“Yeah?”

“I know you have it too.”

Tony froze.

“And I’m sorry someone’s making you go through this,” Steve continued as if he had no idea how much of Tony’s world he just shattered. He probably didn’t. “I kind of want to rip them a new one, for being cowards. I know the media paints you one way, but if they’d just tell you, I know you’d give them a fair shot.”

Tony put his tablet down and shuffled closer to Steve.

“It doesn’t matter. I got all I want right here.”

Steve looked at him, his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I figured I’d take care of a sick boyfriend one day or another.”

That was not smooth at all.

That positively sucked. Oh god, Steve was looking at him like he grew three heads.

“Tony, if you wanted to ask me out, couldn’t you have done it when I wasn’t covered in pollen and snot?”

Tony gaped and made protesting noises. “I was going to ask you at the coffee shop! But then you had to go and say you were hacking up spores! _Spores_, Steve!”

Steve let out a small snicker before bursting into a full belly laugh.

* * *

Later that evening, both of them coughed up one single red rose.

It was typical, cliché, and awful.

It was the flower that marked the end of someone’s case of Hanahaki.

“But—” Tony started.

He had been feeling like this for a little over a week. Steve only started a few days ago.

“You?” Steve whispered, as if in awe.

Tony grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him hard. He didn’t care about the floral taste in Steve’s mouth, just the moan he let out before kissing him back and the feeling of Steve climbing into his lap and the aroused flush on his cheeks.

“I swear to god,” Tony growled. “I am finding a cure. This wasn’t even needed. I think you’re wonderful. My stupid hang-ups should not affect you.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you—or that I wanted you to suffer, I just …”

“Had to work up some courage?” Tony supplied.

Steve gave a bit of a smile. “Yeah.”

Then Steve kissed him and Tony put all thoughts of flowers out of his mind.

* * *

“No kidding?” Clint asked.

“No kidding,” Steve confirmed.

“Man, that just sucks.”

Tony nodded in agreement and enjoyed his muffin. It took some talking afterwards (and a lot of kisses he was happy to give and receive), but they concluded that okay, they had some emotional hang-ups they needed to work through, but it was better if they worked through them together, and the short-lived Hanahaki case was completely unneeded.

“The universe sucks,” Tony declared.

“Hey, it got us together,” Steve said. “Who knows how long we would have danced around each other without the threat of apparent death by flower petals?”

“I coughed up some _cactus_ for you!”

“I never asked you to!”

“Apparently, it means ‘endurance’ so you kind of did!”

“Hey!”

* * *

“They’re idiots,” Natasha said as she sipped her tea and watched Tony and Steve go at it. Again.

“Yup,” Bruce agreed, stealing a cookie off Betty’s plate.

“Are we sure they’re in love?” Betty asked, not minding the theft.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “If they’re not, I’m buying out a florist shop and making them choke on all _those_ flowers.”

**Author's Note:**

> Daisy: loyal love  
Violet: faithfulness  
Clover: good luck, ‘be mine’  
Sunflower: adoration  
Iris: friendship  
Tiger Lily: pride  
Chrysanthemum: you’re a wonderful friend, cheerfulness and rest  
Cactus: endurance  
Freesia: trust  
Angelica: inspiration  
Acanthus: arts, often used in ancient Greek and Roman sculpture  
Cherry Blossom: spring, education  
Dandelion: faithfulness, happiness  
Red Carnations: my heart aches for you, admiration  
Fern: sincerity  
Gladiolus: strength of character  
Red Rose: love, I love you
> 
> And thank you everyone who has read, enjoyed, commented, and kudoed this! I really appreciate it!


End file.
